


Starving for the Kind We Need

by morphogenesis



Category: Zero Escape (Video Games), Zero Escape: Virtue's Last Reward - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/F, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-24 02:04:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8351998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morphogenesis/pseuds/morphogenesis
Summary: "Phi kicked off their third anniversary dinner by burning herself four times." Akane and Phi will celebrate their anniversary come hell or high water.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anxiousAnarchist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxiousAnarchist/gifts).



> Consider this a canon divergence where the Radical-6 outbreak was prevented by Crash Keys, Phi, and Sigma before the events of _Zero Time Dilemma_ , thus the game never happened. (I'm handwaving certain unintended consequences of that.) Thank you to my beta, Bre. Title from "Burden of Our Courage" by Brooke Waggoner. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy your gift!

Phi kicked off their third anniversary dinner by burning herself four times.

“Everything okay, Chef?” Akane said. She retrieved a pot of instant curry from the back burner and placed it on the island countertop.

“It was your stupid fried Spam,” Phi shot back as she ran cold water over the burn. It was really steam from the boiling potatoes, now threatening to boil over. She rolled her eyes and leaned sideways to turn the burner off so she wouldn't have to remove her other arm from the sink. Forget the stupid potatoes, they had other food.

Akane left the curry for a moment to grab Phi's arm and kiss the hurt. “There you go.” She darted back before Phi could steal another kiss. Phi snorted but smiled to herself and returned to the stove to flip Spam and season canned vegetables. “These apples are bitter,” Akane said. She'd labored over curry cubes and a rice cooker to produce the plate that she still grated said apple over.

“Then don't put them on your own plate.” Behind her, Phi heard the gentle _thunk_ of Akane placing the plate on an altar. She spoke quietly to her guest instead of praying. Phi'd never picked up enough Japanese to understand what she was saying, but she knew Akane only spoke it with her family. Instead of eavesdropping, she focused on plating their motley buffet of canned goods and withering produce. Fresh food would be better, but they needed shelf-stable goods. Besides, if she covered everything in pepper or hot sauce who could complain?

When they sat down Akane grabbed her hand and held it on the table. She said something, but Phi couldn't pay attention. Her eyes wandered over the mountains outside and the setting sun, and she only came back when Akane pinched her. “Phi? Phiiii?” she teased, pinching her a few more times, and Phi barely got her arm back whole.

“This is how you appreciate the chef?”

Akane stood up and leaned over the table to kiss her. “Better?” 

They didn't speak much while they ate; they took bites and let them settle for minutes at a time, and stared at the table and the wall. Phi almost choked on a mouthful of canned corn, and Akane smirked at her. “Do you think...” Phi began, but Akane cut her off: “It's too bad it's so cold. Remember last year in Colorado? It was beautiful.”

Phi opened her mouth, closed it, then set her spoon down. “It was. I guess we should go back next May.” She knew she should've followed up with _“But it's not so bad here”_ or _“The view is still great”_ with a cheesy wink to make Akane laugh. Instead she pushed food around on her plate and when she looked at Akane's saw she'd only eaten a mouthful of everything. “Hey, Akane?”

“Huh?”

Phi took her hand across the table and squeezed it. “I love you.” She hoped her smile was convincing; Akane's was small. 

“You too, silly.” Akane pushed her plate away. “That was yummy, but I'm full.” Maybe she would've appreciated a giant mug of tea instead, considering she'd lived on it for the past few months. Akane came to her side and held out a hand. “Read with me?”

Phi looked between her plate and Akane, and with much reluctance abandoned the food. They curled up on the couch and Phi rested her head on Akane's chest to listen to her read from a mystery novel they'd started last month and never gotten back to. Work kept them so busy but now there was no work left to do, so when Akane suggested they spend their anniversary in the Sierra Nevada, she'd said yes.

“Do you believe the kid's alibi?” Phi asked when they came to a scene break, and leaned into Akane scratching her scalp.

“Nope.” She handed the book off to Phi. “Your turn.” Phi tried to portray the tension in the scene where the detectives interrogated the delinquent suspect, but her voice must've faltered too many times as Akane reached over her and tried to close the book. “That's enough.”

“I'm just tired –”

“Ssh.” Akane tapped Phi's lips with an index finger. “It's almost time, anyway.” Any bubbliness in her behavior had boiled off now. Once Phi got off her, Akane got up from the couch and went to the window, staring outside with her hands clasped behind her back. The sun set half an hour ago and darkness was the only view. Phi set the book down on the pile of them they never finished and stood behind her, putting an arm around her waist and her chin on Akane's shoulder.

“What are you looking for?”

“I don't know.”

“That's a first.”

Akane didn't laugh. On what they'd later call their first date, she'd shrieked when she spilled a glass of ice water in her lap. She'd giggled when a tipsy Phi missed her mouth when she tried to kiss her. Phi wanted to hear those sounds – the real ones – tonight. “I enjoyed the time we had together, Phi. You and me. All of us.”

“Yeah, it's been...” Phi's voice died out. She pressed her forehead to the side of Akane's neck. “Are you sure it happens tonight?” Akane's soft hair tickled her face and Phi wanted to wrap it around her head to muffle the inevitable answer.

“I am. At 7PM the first bomb detonates, and the EMP –”

“I didn't ask for exposition.”

“Turn off the lights then.”

She did, and when she returned Akane was sitting on the floor by the window, staring at the stars. Phi got a blanket and sat down beside her, wrapping it around them both. “It's really cold for May.” Why still play along? It wasn't May 19th, it was January 8th and tonight, despite their sacrifices and small victories along the way, the apocalypse arrived. Preventing the Radical-6 pandemic bought them four years, but extremists always found a way.

“It is.” Akane tightened her arm around Phi's shoulder. Phi put her hand over Akane's and leaned against her.

“What happens next?” Phi knew general things, like everyone around Akane did. Akane was the only one who knew everything, and divulged it when the time was right. When they first started dating they'd had so many arguments about that, but Phi had come to accept it as the price of being with Akane.

“Lots of things.” Akane sounded tired, and Phi kissed her cheek.

“Keep it a surprise.”

Akane nodded toward the window. “When the sky tinges red, we'll know it's begun. We're far enough away to safely observe the end of the world.”

“What a view.” Phi stared into the evening and prayed it would stay dark. Were this their actual anniversary, Akane would move her hand from Phi's shoulder to her breast, put the other one on her hip, and ease down onto the floor. They would've had sex in front of the window and then looked at the stars while they rested, and Akane would listen to her talk about the ice rings of Saturn for the five-hundredth time. What would they have become if tonight were a normal night and May 19th, 2033 came peacefully? Phi closed her eyes and pictured it like a series of travel slides: Making it to Antarctica, building that tiny house on an acre, owning a sugar glider, white lace and diamonds, and every other fantasy they'd ever entertained. For a while, they'd had hope and dreamed of the future.

Two nights ago, Akane shook her awake. “The problem is,” she'd begun while sitting on the edge of the bed to face the wall instead of Phi, “I can see _everything_. I can see worlds where no one dies, and I see if only I'd done X or Y, I'd be in that one instead of this one.” She sighed and when she spoke again her voice was thick. “I want that world so much, but then I remember I have you because I'm here. I know I'm betraying you by wanting it.”

A year ago, this admission would've left Phi an angry, self-conscious mess, but that night she put her arms around Akane and shushed her back to sleep. She didn't respond to Akane apologizing, whispering names of the dead, and questioning if Phi hated her. Phi'd had her own breakdown earlier this week, in which she'd thrown a ceramic cat across the room and then slid down the wall like she was overacting in a TV movie. “I didn't let him die,” she said for the thousandth time in three years, and Akane held her and said, “You didn't.”

Tonight, Phi wanted just one more moment in a peaceful world. Phi took Akane's face and kissed her long and gentle. When they pulled away she looked at Akane before pinching her cheeks and pulling them upward so she'd smile. She laughed when Akane shook her off, but she saw Akane's real smile. The moment broke when Akane started and turned her head away. “Phi, look,” she gasped, pointing to the window. Phi turned her head like Akane was pointing out an unusual cloud outside.

Red light dawned, filling the sky and ending their dreams for the future.


End file.
